


On This Home By Horror Haunted

by tenrousei_kuroi



Series: Pretentious Nonsense [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sequel, Sirius Black is a bit off his rocker, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenrousei_kuroi/pseuds/tenrousei_kuroi
Summary: Regulus thought he was free of his brother, and in his certainty he grew complacent.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of 3.
> 
> This is an unofficial sequel to "My Soul From Out That Shadow" because several people asked for it (including myself). Heed the warnings, things get even worse in this one (though mostly in part 3).

Time passed. Weeks went by. Then months. And all the while, Regulus hid. Winter had ended by the time he finally ventured outside Sirius’s house. It was necessity that had driven him to it. His supply of food in the kitchen had run out, and while Regulus was sure more food was kept in the pantry, the door was one of the last vestiges of Sirius’s original wards that still clung to life. Regulus found the door magically sealed and had no idea of when it might finally fade. After three days of starving himself, Regulus finally relented. From the few times when visitors had knocked on the front door, Regulus had determined that the wards had faded to the point where he was now able to leave the house.

 

But would he be able to get back in?

 

Without a wand, he couldn’t be sure. So the first time Regulus left the house, he propped the front door open an inch or two. The second time he left, he did so through a window, which was less noticeable when left agape.

 

At first Regulus was utterly lost. He had no wand, and no money. So he did the only thing he knew how to do.

 

He went home.

 

It was hours of weary wandering and a ride from a strange muggle in a car, but Regulus finally made it to his parents’ corner of London only to find that Grimmauld Place was locked to him.

 

At first Regulus thought he might cry with exasperation. Had his parents removed him from the wards of his own home so soon after his disappearance? Were they so furious with him for running away?

 

Regulus bit his lip and hugged his arms to his chest. He must have been a pathetic sight, standing like this in front of the muggle street.

 

His parents hadn’t removed Sirius from the home’s security when _he’d_ run away. And they’d _hated_ Sirius. Had Regulus really upset his mother and father this badly?

 

A thought occurred to Regulus that the process may have been automatic. After all, Sirius had stopped his heart with that god awful potion. Regulus had been legally dead for several minutes, long enough most likely for Walburga’s tapestry and other family devices to see him as deceased. Regulus rubbed absentmindedly at his left forearm. He’d felt no summonings since his “death,” either.

 

“Mum!” Regulus yelled, stepping forward and slamming his fist against the door. He was still a wizard, so Grimmauld Place was visible to him. He honestly had no idea what he must look like to any muggle driving by. “Dad!” Regulus kept yelling and knocking, but there was no answer. Were his parents not home? Were they ignoring him?

 

Had something become of them? For a moment Regulus was consumed by the very real fear that the Dark Lord may have already discovered his betrayal. After all, his stint in the cave had been less than a year ago. Had his master realized what he’d done and come after his parents in retribution.

 

Regulus shook his head. How ridiculous he was being! His parents were probably just out. He would come back and try again later if he dared.

 

Thinking of his old master had stirred fear in Regulus and he became acutely aware of how obvious he looked. Anyone would recognize him. He pressed his body up against the front door of the house, trembling. Suddenly the immense weight of everything struck him all at once and he let out a dry sob.

 

Sirius was dead. Just the fact that Regulus was standing here meant that the last trails of his brother’s magic had faded from the world. Regulus didn’t know where his parents were, they could be dead for all he knew. And his brother…

 

...his big brother was really dead. Dead and gone. Regulus would never see him again, and as much as Regulus hated his brother, he still loved him. He loved the brother he remembered from years ago, the brother he’d idolized in his head, the few moments of sweetness Sirius had shown him even after their whole sordid affair had begun.

 

Regulus let the tears fall until he felt his breath lodge in his throat. Gasping, he finally straightened himself up. As deep in despair as he was, there was sill a spark of determination within him. If he was going to die, then he wasn’t going to starve to death on his own front step. He would recover his wand and he would set right his life. But first he needed to find something to eat.

 

So Regulus staggered about until he came to a muggle food store staffed by only one clerk who seemed quite inattentive. Regulus sat down outside and waited. When there was a significant-enough number of customers browsing about the shop, he slipped inside and pocketed all he could carry.

 

Getting back to Sirius’s house was no small feat. Not knowing where he was, Regulus had to ask for directions. He approached the next person he saw who looked like she would give him the time of day.

 

“Gods, you’re trying to get all the way over there by foot?” demanded the woman when Regulus told her Sirius’s address. “Take the bus, dear.”

 

“No money,” Regulus mumbled. The woman frowned.

 

“Well then wait here with me for a minute. My friend’s coming to pick me up in half an hour and I’m sure she’d be fine with giving you a ride.”

 

Regulus was too tired and hungry to protest.

 

This first day of travel was so hard on Regulus that he didn’t again try to return to his parents’ house. The journey was too far to make safely, especially when he was defenseless and potentially being hunted.

 

Regulus tried to make his pitiful haul of food last as long as possible. When he could stand the hunger pangs no longer, he finally ventured outside again, this time at night. He stared longingly through multiple store windows but was ultimately too scared to risk anyone catching him. He had been lucky the first time. So he staggered back home hungry again. With what felt like knives digging into his stomach, Regulus tossed his brother’s bedroom, looking frantically for any spare coins. Finally, after rummaging through a dozen drawers and turning out the pockets of all of Sirius’s trousers, Regulus found several galleons and a sickle. He knew the muggles valued gold a far sight more than wizards did. Perhaps he could trade these coins for their worth in muggle money, which he could then buy food with.

 

Regulus’s plan with the galleons worked, and after a long day of wandering and asking for help, during which many people gave him pitying looks, he finally made it home with what would hopefully be enough food to last at least until his brother’s pantry door finally relented.

 

After that Regulus bunkered down. He was terrified that he may have been spotted by an enemy during one of his outings and spent several weeks convinced that he would wake to either the Aurors or the Death Eaters preparing to kill him.

 

But they never came. Eventually Regulus was able to brute force his way past Sirius’s ever-weakening wards and access the canned goods in the pantry.

 

Regulus knew he couldn’t stay hidden in this house forever, much as he might prefer that. He needed to get back out to the real world—the wizarding world. He needed to figure out what was going on and he needed to contact his family. As terrifying as the prospect was, he needed to alert his parents to the fact that he was still alive. He needed to know what was happening in the war.

 

But he was unwilling to present himself to the wizarding world without his wand. Even traveling back to Grimmauld Place to try again to contact his parents would leave him uncomfortably exposed. He was helpless as he was, and try as he might, he could not locate his wand. Sirius had to have hidden it somewhere in the house, and the house was not that large, so how much longer was Regulus going to have to hunt for it? With his luck, Sirius would have the thing locked behind more magic, and who knew how long Regulus would have to wait until _that_ magic faded?

 

For now he waited in the house, biding his time, sleeping on the couch to stave off the nightmares that plagued Sirius’s bedroom. Regulus was terrified of this house, but it was all he could be certain of right now.

* * *

 

Months more passed, and Regulus finally located his wand. It was in the pantry, he was sure of it. Hidden behind the wine rack was a small safe nestled snugly within the brickwork. Regulus had not noticed it until he’d given in to temptation and removed a cheap bottle of merlot, revealing the device behind it.

 

Regulus couldn’t open the safe without the combination, but he could feel his wand behind the small, metal door. When he gripped the handle he could feel his wand reach out for him. It was there. He just needed to get to it.

 

“Found you,” Regulus said with a small smile. Things would be okay now. He would get into the metal wall-box eventually. Now he had a clear goal in mind that he could work towards. Then, when he was once again armed, he could see about getting his life back.

 

Sirius didn’t have many potion supplies in his home, detesting the subject as he had, but he had enough for any respectable wizard. And so Regulus set to work. Potions had never been his forte, but he’d always been competent, and now, like a prisoner serving life, he had nothing but time to make sure he got everything just right.

 

“Spider, spiders, spiders,” Regulus muttered, sifting through jars in Sirius’s cabinets and looking for the next ingredients he would need. The lock on Sirius’s safe was not magical. It was a muggle contraption. And so the lock would not fade no matter if Regulus waited a century. So he was going to have to open it with force.

 

He was going to blow the damn thing open. And he knew just the potion to throw at it.

 

“Here you are,” Regulus popped the cork on a small bottle of dead cross spiders and lazily poured one into his bubbling potion. It simmered and turned a violent orange. Perfect. Now all he needed to do was wait.

 

The prospect of once again being armed was a little bit daunting at the same time that it was exciting. Regulus would have no more excuses to keep hiding here. He would have to face whatever music was waiting for him.

 

Regulus tossed and turned that night. He’d been too excited to fall asleep easy. His blasting potion was almost ready to go, sealed up in a vial on the counter. In a few short days, he’d have his wand back. Regulus had to really try to get to sleep, and when he did, he slept fitfully.

 

His dreams were beset by nightmares not unlike those that had attacked him the nights he’d attempted to sleep in Sirius’s bed.

 

Harsh hands and harsher words. A grip tight on Regulus’s throat and an immovable weight covering his whole body. All of it holding him down, but the words most strongly of all. Words so cruel and so frightening and so _real_ that Regulus felt he could not escape them, even if his body were free. His legs could run, his mind could not.

 

Everything was dark while Regulus dreamed. He never saw. He could hear, though. He could hear an unforgiving ocean threatening to swallow him whole. Distant shouting, and the feeling of sharp rocks spilling out over the ground, cutting him. There was so much lightning all around him, crashing and exploding and—

 

A loud bang woke Regulus from his uneasy slumber. For a moment, he was disoriented and unsure if he’d heard the sound or dreamed it.

 

When only silence persisted, Regulus sank back down onto the sofa, breathing heavily. He was about to close his eyes again when he heard it. A voice, calling softly to him, almost gently.

 

“Oh, Reggie...”

 

Regulus skin tingled. He knew that voice. Knew that voice better than he knew his own. But it wasn’t possible, was it? No, it couldn’t be.

 

“Regulus...”

 

No, no, no. He had come to terms with everything. He was free. His life was going to get back on track again. He had loved that voice. He had cowered before that voice. He had _grieved_ for that voice. He had been certain he’d never hear it again.

 

But here it was, smooth and commanding as ever. And right on the other side of the front door. As if pulled by the strings of a marionette, Regulus lifted himself from the couch and approached the entryway, barely breathing.

 

“Please let me in, Regulus,” Sirius cooed through the door.

 

Regulus shuddered. Intrigued, almost possessed, he drifted down the front hall. Sirius’s voice continued to filter through the door, pleading, demanding. Regulus could feel his skin crawling. He slid up to the door and reached out a trembling hand. He let his fingertips rest upon the cool wood. He could almost feel the door vibrate with each word Sirius murmured.

 

“Reggie, my little one. I’ve missed you so. Open the door and let me come back to you.”

 

Regulus stood there in the dark, shaking. Sirius’s voice was so close to him, just on the other side of the front door. He could hardly believe it. It had been months...no, years. Sirius had left him over two years ago. Could he really be back?

 

Regulus narrowed his eyes. This seemed to him to be some horrible trick. He had assumed Sirius long dead…

 

He had thought he was free…

 

A rising panic took hold in Regulus’s mind. Sirius couldn’t still be alive, could he? Regulus retracted his hand from the door as if it had burned him. He took a frightened step backwards. He had thought Sirius dead, but here he had returned. If it was truly Sirius on the other side of that door, then...Regulus could almost cry with misery. He’d had two years to run, to hide. And yet he’d stayed here, in Sirius’s house like a sitting duck. Wand or no wand, he should have run! And now Sirius had come back for him and it was his fault he’d been caught!

 

Regulus took another step back, but it was difficult. Sirius was still talking to him, and his voice had an almost tangible weight to it. His soft commands wrapped around Regulus’s body and they tugged. They pulled at his feeble resistance, drawing him in.

 

_Don’t open that door…_

 

“Open up, Reggie...”

 

Regulus panted. Was he safe in here? He should open the door immediately if he wanted to avoid making Sirius angry. But what if Sirius was locked out for good? Sirius’s wards had faded, but they hadn’t disappeared. The home was still magically locked. The powers had only lessened, weakened just enough to no longer recognize Sirius as the caster and allow him entry.

 

Regulus’s heart was racing. How difficult would it be for Sirius to get in past these diminished wards? Would he just have to wait, as Regulus had? How long? Minutes? Days? Hours? Perhaps he wouldn’t be able to get in at all? Regulus trembled. He didn’t want to let Sirius in. If he was truly safe in here, then he wanted to leave Sirius outside. But if Sirius stood a chance of getting in without Regulus’s help, then he would be so furious at Regulus for not opening the door.

 

“Regulus, I’m not going to ask you again.”

 

By this point Regulus’s fingertips were brushing up against the handle.

 

“Answer me, Regulus.” Sirius’s voice was getting harder. The ethereal qualities were fading, leaving only a frightening coarseness. “Are you unable to open the door?”

 

Regulus blinked. Did Sirius think Regulus was still trapped inside the house? That he couldn’t open the door? Under Sirius’s care, the wards had blocked Regulus from leaving the building via window, door, or any other opening. Of course Sirius wouldn’t know for certain that the magic had weakened so far as to allow Regulus to leave.

 

Was Sirius even certain Regulus was still inside? Wild thoughts entered Regulus’s mind. If he just stayed silent, then maybe he could convince Sirius that he had escaped. Or that he had starved to death inside the house. His fingers ghosted about the handle some more.

 

Maybe Sirius would leave. Give up. Go elsewhere. Seek his vengeance against whatever force had weakened him these past two years if he hadn’t been dead.

 

“Reg?” Sirius asked softly. His voice was so small and so...young, that Regulus started. His fingers knocked gracelessly against the handle, jostling it. The door didn’t open, but the sound of the handle moving had been loud against the silence of the night. Regulus’s breath hitched. He couldn’t see his brother, but the image of Sirius’s face twisting into a predatory grin burned itself into Regulus’s vision regardless.

 

“Ah, I can hear you, Reggie.” The age came flooding back to Sirius’s voice. Gone was the sound that had reminded Regulus so forcefully of his brother as he had existed when they were children. Returned was the man who had held Regulus captive. Hurt him. Used him.

 

Claimed to _own_ him.

 

“If you tell me why you aren’t letting me inside, Regulus, then I may be lenient with you. But you need to answer me now, little brother.”

 

Regulus stumbled backwards until he hit the wall. He tightly closed his eyes, wishing desperately for this to be a mistake. A delusion brought on by isolation. A trick by the Dark Lord to trap him. Anything but what it seemed.

 

Sirius sighed loudly from the front steps. “Fine, be a brat,” he conceded. “It’s really no matter…

 

“I’ll get inside eventually.”

 

Regulus felt hot tears spill from his eyes.

 

“And when I do, you’ll be very sorry, indeed.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius's wards are strengthening again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two. Originally this was only going to be a two-parter. But then it got monstrously long so now it's three parts.

Regulus was so upset by the reappearance of his brother that he didn’t eat for two days. Every small noise set him off. He had drawn all the curtains closed and spent most of his time pacing around the kitchen, throwing anxious glances towards the potion vial on the counter. It was still simmering a violent orange, making Regulus more panicked by the minute.

 

He wanted to leave here, but now that Sirius was possibly waiting just outside the door, there was no way he would be safe without his wand. Hiding was no longer an option. Regulus needed to be able to defend himself.

 

But could he even protect himself from Sirius’s returning specter? Regulus shuddered. In his mind his brother was strong, superhuman even. Part of Regulus’s brain had never shaken the image of Sirius as he remembered him from childhood: always larger, always stronger, and always a few years ahead.

 

Regulus’s potion began to sparkle.

 

A cold bead of sweat zigzagged its way down Regulus’s face. It was no good standing here staring. With tremendous effort, Regulus managed to drag himself to the bathroom, where he showered and redressed in some of Sirius’s old pajamas. For a brief moment on his way down the hall, Regulus paused and stared back at Sirius’s bedroom door. A chill ran up his spine and he dashed to the living room, where he settled down on the couch again, praying for a dreamless sleep.

 

Sleep didn’t find Regulus easily. A million thoughts were racing through his head. He still couldn’t decide if he believed his brother to have truly returned. There was still the possibility of a trick of some sort. Could it be that the Dark Lord had discovered him to still be alive? Was he attempting to draw Regulus out of the house?

 

Regulus thought he might honestly be going crazy. He let out a low whine and covered his face in his hands. Suppose he hadn’t actually heard Sirius’s voice at all? Was it so far-fetched that he would start hallucinating after everything else that had happened? That Regulus’s brain would torment him with the voice of his renegade brother? Slipping in when his defenses were weakened and taunting him with that gentle, but threatening voice _Reggie, are you awake?_

_...Reggie?_

 

“...Reggie, I know you’re not sleeping in there.”

 

Regulus sat bolt upright. The house was pitch black save for the pulsing glow of Regulus’s potion as it finally cured to its final, dull red color. Regulus staggered to his feet with half a mind to go to the kitchen where his vial sat, humbly illuminating the dirty counter. But his brain was foggy and his movements were slow…

 

...and he would have to walk past the front door to get there.

 

Slowly and cautiously, like a drunk trying his hardest not to fall, Regulus shuffled across the carpeted floor, feeling himself shiver with anxiety as he made his way to the front door. Petrified, he leaned forward and listened. There was definitely someone outside. Regulus could hear his brother scurrying about, tapping at the side of the house, testing the wards, looking for a weak point. Unable to breathe, Regulus stumbled backwards and dashed to the living room window. He was all but in a blind panic. All he knew is he needed out of this house, right now. He’d take his chances that it was all a trap and that there was a battalion of Death Eaters lying in wait, ready to snag him as he tried to flee around the other side of the house. He’d have to risk that it was really Sirius, and that his brother would hear him exit through the window and run over to catch him in an instant.

 

He just had to get out.

 

But the window wouldn’t open. Regulus tugged, and yanked and pounded his fist against the glass, but to no avail. The window wouldn’t unseal for him. It was warded.

 

The wards were no longer weakening...they were strengthening. Which could only mean one thing.

 

It wasn’t the Dark Lord outside his door, trying to lure him out. It wasn’t a trick of his mind, tormenting him with Sirius’s voice.

 

It was Sirius. Sirius Black was alive after all. He must not have been killed, as Regulus had assumed, but rather weakened. Somehow so hideously weakened that the very spells he’d cast in life had begun to dissolve. Only now he was back, uninhibited by whatever force had maimed him so seriously...and with Sirius Black’s recovery, the wards had regrown, as well. Regulus Black was once again trapped inside this home. He couldn’t open the front door for his brother now even if he’d wanted to.

 

And he didn’t need to. The wards would grow to recognize Sirius once again as their caster. They would allow him entry. Regulus wrapped his arms around himself and cowered in fear. A long few seconds passed and then he heard it.

 

That click. The sound of a door handle rotating fully before the door actually swings open.

 

“Yes, that’s right. Been waiting long enough...”

 

The front door opened with only mild resistance, its foot dragging heavily against the carpet, crumpling up and brushing aside the entryway rug. In the dark of the room and the dark of his own mind, Regulus could not see his brother as he stepped inside the doorway.

 

But he could _feel_ him. And Regulus had nowhere to run.

 

The messy, dark silhouette that was Sirius Black shifted slightly, and Regulus knew his brother was turning to look at him.

 

Regulus didn’t need his eyes to see that nocuous smile spread over Sirius Black’s face. He knew it was there, and he knew what it meant for him. Regulus started to inch away from the wall, not entirely sure where he was even trying to go.

 

“There you are, my little one. You know, Reggie...you’ve been very bad, ignoring me like you have. Trying to keep away from me? When I’ve come so very far just to see you again?”

 

Regulus heard the rustling movements of Sirius Black walking towards him. Regulus began to pant. He felt like he was at an enormous disadvantage. How was it that Sirius seemed so confident in the dark? How could he see Regulus so well, adjusting to Regulus’s flighty movements and still making a steady line towards him?

 

And Sirius was moving so slowly...not because he needed to, but because he knew he had won, and now he was playing games. He marched slowly towards Regulus, stalking him.

 

A minute later, with his back flush against the wall, Regulus felt the air around him shift, and he knew Sirius was right in front of him. Then Regulus felt Sirius’s cold fingers ghost at his cheek and he lost it.

 

Regulus screamed and took off sprinting. He felt Sirius stagger as Regulus knocked past him in a blind panic. And so truly blind was Regulus’s fright that he passed the front door without a backwards glance. Instead he crashed his way down the hall, terrified that Sirius was following him. Regulus threw himself to the one door in the house he hadn’t touched since Sirius’s disappearance.

 

The closet.

 

Regulus closed himself inside the tiny room, panting. He crouched down with his arms wrapped around his stomach, trying to be quiet and hoping against hope that Sirius wouldn’t find him.

 

But find him Sirius did. Within moments, Regulus’s panting was quieted by the most dangerous voice his brother has ever adopted: a sort of vicious murmur, all sweet and cruel.

 

“Naughty, Reggie. Hiding from me. I’ll decide when you spend time in this closet and when you spend your time...elsewhere with me.”

 

Sirius yanked open the closet door, at the same time flicking on the lights. Regulus fell forward, shaking and blinking furiously at the onslaught of light. Pupils trying frantically to constrict, Regulus crawled forward, slipping just from Sirius’s grasp and staggering down the hall. He couldn’t well see where he was going, _where was the front door?_ He felt his way along the wall, knocking pictures off as he went. The door was close…

 

But Sirius got to him first, snagging him securely around the waist and literally throwing Regulus back towards the living room. The house was still quite dark here, with just the mildest of glows emanating from the hall. Regulus rubbed at his eyes while he stood. Sirius’s foreboding silhouette was blocking the front door and Regulus ran the opposite direction, back into total darkness.

 

Regulus felt Sirius snag him by the back of his collar. Regulus shrieked and tore free from him, sprinting towards the kitchen and the only light he could see: the faint, red glow from his vial.

 

“Enough of this!” Sirius hollered. “Regulus, you come here, right now!”

 

Sirius’s voice sent Regulus even further into his frenzy.

 

“Please, please, please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face. “Siri... _please_ don’t be mad at me. I—I didn’t mean to. The door—the wards—Sirius _please_ don’t hurt me!”

 

“When have I ever hurt you, love? I’ve kept you safe, haven’t I? Come here, honey.”

 

And Sirius was upon him again. With his strength and courage failing him, all Regulus could do was whimper and writhe. Sirius had ahold of him by the arm and the throat. Regulus could feel his brother’s fingers constricting around his neck, somewhat weaker than he remembered, but still more than enough to overpower Regulus’s devastated, frail body.

 

“Settle down,” Sirius scolded.

 

With the last of his energy, Regulus swept his free arm wildly across the counter. He felt the sharp pain of his forearm connecting with something...his vial!

 

The potion crashed to the floor and exploded an instant later. In the brief flash of light, Regulus saw his brother’s face clearly. Sirius was sickly and his skin taut. He looked beaten and feral, and in his eyes was an expression of both anger and shock. The force of the explosion sent Sirius careening backwards into the kitchen, crashing his head against the cupboard and his back against the counter. Sirius hit the floor with a thud and didn’t move.

 

Regulus was also blown backwards, into the living room, where he landed a little more gently on the carpet. His hands, face and chest felt like they were on fire, the potion had singed his pajamas and he was seeing starbursts.

 

“Sirius?” Regulus cried, crawling onto his hands and knees, unable to fully stand. He felt like he was going to throw up. “S—Sirius?”

 

But Sirius did not answer him. Shaking uncontrollably, Regulus reached his arm up the wall until he found the light switch. As soon as the kitchen lit up, Regulus’s eyes found his brother’s limp form. Sirius had ragdollized in the corner of the kitchen, surrounded by broken glass and the sizzling remains of Regulus’s carefully crafted potion.

 

This was Regulus’s chance to run.

 

This was his moment to escape…

 

...but what about his wand? This was also his chance to grab it but Regulus’s potion was gone. How was he going to get inside that safe?

 

Sirius! Regulus could steal Sirius’s wand to retrieve his own. It was perfect, but Regulus would have to approach his brother to do so. And he wasn’t sure he could make himself do that.

 

Regulus sat on the floor for a good while, biting his nails and unable to stop staring at his brother’s body. Sirius’s wand was of a similar make to his own...perhaps Regulus could just abscond with his brother’s wand for now rather than mess around in this house a moment longer.

 

Regulus crawled forward to his brother’s side, a sliver of worry creeping into his heart. Had he killed his big brother? Oh god, what had he done?

 

“Siri...” Regulus whimpered. He took his hand, scratched and bleeding from the glass on the tile, and placed it gently on Sirius’s chest. To his immense relief—and also to his extreme terror—Regulus felt Sirius’s chest rise gently. He was breathing.

 

“Oh, Siri...I’m sorry, I…I need...” Regulus raked his eyes over Sirius’s body. His brother was quite thin and his normally sleek hair had dulled and dried. His robes were frayed and skin was dirty and chapped. What had happened to Sirius during his absence? Regulus slid his hand over and felt the frantic beating of his brother’s heart, like a rabbit hidden in its burrow from a hungry eagle.

 

Regulus opened his brother’s robes and felt his shirt and trouser pockets...nothing. He turned out the pockets of Sirius’s robes. Nothing.

 

Sirius Black did not have his wand. Regulus slumped in confusion and sorrow. What was he going to do now?

 

He would have to leave. Wand or no wand. He didn’t have time to risk staying here any longer. If he could not arm himself, then he would just have to take his chances on the streets. Even unarmed and weakened, Sirius was too much for him. Regulus knew he could not withstand his brother’s words...he would cave to Sirius’s manipulation.

 

No, Regulus would go now. He gently pulled Sirius’s robes back over his chest, as if he were tucking in a child.

 

“I’m sorry, Sirius,” he said again. “I’m going to...leave you here. And I’ll...I’ll call for a healer or...I’ll tell Mum and Dad. If I can find them. They’ll know how to help you. I won’t...I won’t get you in trouble, I’ll...I’ll...”

 

But Regulus had no more words. He wasn’t sure what he would do, anyway. Sirius was lying broken and bleeding on his kitchen floor, and Regulus was just going to dash wildly out into the streets? This was such a mess.

 

“Goodbye Sirius,” Regulus whispered. And he started to stand, only to be stopped by a cold grip on his wrist.

 

Regulus squealed in shock.

 

“Morning, Reggie. Looking for something?” Sirius sat up, raising an eyebrow.

 

Regulus cowered. He was caught. Sirius heaved himself up and crawled over his brother, trapping him on the hard floor of the kitchen.

 

“I see you still haven’t learned to behave,” Sirius observed. His weight bore down on Regulus, pressing him harder into the floor and the glass. Regulus felt the hot remains of his potion pooling against his shoulder.

 

“Come with me,” Sirius said sternly. He got unsteadily to his feet, and Regulus saw a light trail of blood seeping from his brother’s temple. Sirius was coming back to himself quickly, though. He pulled Regulus up and dragged him into the hallway. Regulus saw they were heading towards the bedroom and he tried vainly to tug himself free.

 

Sirius turned back sharply and slapped Regulus smartly across the face. “Enough,” he snarled. “You’re getting on my last nerve.”

 

“Siri, please.”

 

But Sirius only pulled Regulus along, throwing him onto the bed and closing the door behind them. Regulus rolled onto his side, shivering. He’d stayed out of this room to avoid the nightmares of this very scenario. But now he was in a nightmare. A permanent, real nightmare. Sirius was shuffling around in the closet. When he reemerged, Regulus was horrified to see he was twirling and ebony wand.

  
“W—what is…?”

 

“Mother’s old wand. The one she set aside years ago in her study as a spare...I thought it would make a lovely parting gift the night I ran away. After all, Mother and I always had such...annoyingly similar magical signatures. I think this wand will do fine until I can wrangle my own back.”

 

Regulus saw the world blurring as more tears pooled in his eyes. To think a usable wand had been within his reach all this time! Sirius left him for a moment, and Regulus felt his heart sink to the floor when he heard his brother chanting the familiar words that would repair the house’s security wards.

 

Regulus was trapped again. Once more his hesitation had cost him his only chance of escape.

 

But what escape? What chance had Regulus really stood? He tried to picture himself running around the streets of London, wandless, starving and frightened. What was he thinking? That he would have been able to run home to his parents? That the Dark Lord would ignore that _stupid_ note he’d left in the cave forever?

 

Regulus rolled onto his back. His stomach was doing flips, but his heart was thudding madly. He could hear Sirius’s footsteps as he made his way back to the bedroom. With a casual flick of his newly acquired wand, Sirius opened the bedroom door and approached his brother. Regulus had his eyes closed, but he heard the bedroom door slam shut, and he could feel the mattress shift as Sirius sat down next to him. Then there was hair tickling his face. Sirius was leaning over him.

 

“Reggie, my dear...we’ve a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”


End file.
